


Lovesick

by auditoryeden



Category: Perception (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Lovesick, Romance, S1E6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:17:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auditoryeden/pseuds/auditoryeden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galas, awards ceremonies, large public events, were by far the worst part of Daniel's job. Lovesick Fix-it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovesick

Galas, awards ceremonies, large public events, were by far the worst part of Daniel's job. Lots and lots of people he didn't know, no way to tell if any one stranger addressing him was real or not, frequently flashing lights and the white noise of a crowd drowning out his own thoughts. Also, tuxes were, in his opinion, designed specifically to make a person as physically uncomfortable as possible, with the high collar and the stiff shoulders, and worst of all, shiny shoes.

Needless to say Daniel was far from pleased when Paul Haley told him he had to go to some big event on Friday. Worse still was the reason he had to be there; apparently Alison Bannister, widow of someone who graduated from the University and then made a lot of money, was a big fan and would love to meet him, possibly even enough to make her want to fund the new Life Sciences building.

Daniel liked the Life Sciences building as it was, thank you. Its dirty grey floors and institutional green hallways had backdropped some of the best days of his life, as an undergrad finding his feet in the world. Before he was diagnosed. He didn't particularly want the peeling paint to be stripped away, the old tile floors torn up. He wanted the old stereo microscope that lived mysteriously in an empty classroom to stay there forever, a memorial of times when he had spent hours in that room, studying, thinking, sometimes doing other things. That building should stay, and Daniel wouldn't have any part in its destruction.

Except that he had to go. Paul had asked nicely this time, but if push came to shove, the Dean could trebuchet Daniel's ass to that party, managing to somehow fire him through a good suit at the same time. If Daniel bowed to the inevitable with something approaching grace, he'd be able to keep a modicum of dignity.

A bare modicum.

Such were the thoughts that occupied one of the most preeminent minds in the world of neuropsychiatry as he fed the quad pigeons one fine morning. Pigeon-feeding was relaxing, the repetitive motion of sprinkling the birdseed, the flow of sitting very still, concentrating on getting the bird to move just that little bit closer.

"What are you doing?" The voice was rich with incredulity, and instantly recognizable. Being one of the most preeminent minds of the time, Daniel was of course able to come up with a satisfactory response—pigeon mating habits weren't actually all that interesting to him, although the idea could bear further study—and Kate got to the point, which was, as usual, murder.

"...which is why," she explained, "I convinced the US Attorney's office to appoint you!"

"Well, as honored as I am that you think I'm special, I know you Kate. You expect me to believe you're not even the smallest bit curious?"

She grimaced, and Daniel restrained his smile, another part of the runaway train of his brain beginning to tick through indicators to look for in the doctor's files. "I've been in hot water with the boss lately. Apparently I've been stepping outside the circle of my responsibility, so this time I'm staying inside the circle." The words were accompanied by a cute little gesture and a face, a sliver of the younger, less restrained Kate Daniel once knew gleaming through.

"Alright," Daniel agreed eventually, "I'll have a look, see what I can find, on one condition."

Kate gave him a startled look, eyes blown wide with surprise, and brows drawn down over them. "Conditions, Daniel?"

"Just one," he assured her, internally mustering all of his genius's arrogance and pride to keep himself looking calm as he spoke the next words. "I have to go to this gala on Friday, it's for the Chicago Science Association, Dean Haley's orders. I'll be the special master, and even assuage your curiosity, if you'll come with me to the gala. Otherwise I'm pretty sure it's going to be unbearable."

He wanted to take back the words as soon as he'd said them. There was a faint look in her eyes that boded ill, he was sure of it. She stared at him, looking quietly dumbstruck, and his mouth was opening to stammer out a retraction, when she grinned at him, suddenly and warmly.

"Sounds like fun," she said sweetly, and his heart lifted. "What time?" she asked, an echo of a question she'd asked him once before, only to be rebuffed by a man abruptly scared off by his own anxieties.

"It starts at eight," he told her. "I'll pick you up around seven-thirty?"

If he hadn't been so very busy pretending not to be avoiding her eyes, he would have seen how she was glowing at him.

It hadn't worked out quite like they'd planned. The murder had been solved, but they'd been in interrogation at six thirty and Kate had practically run out of the FBI building to get home and clean up. Daniel had been ready in a matter of minutes, and after commandeering the car keys from Lewicki, set off to pick up his date. They'd left her apartment building at eight-thirty, and arrived at the gala twenty-seven minutes later.

Parking was a minor nightmare because they were so late, but Daniel had dropped Kate off by the entrance to spare her the walk in her heels, and was almost level with where she had stood when a slim figure, outlined against the light of the doors, caught his eye.

Kate had taken off her coat. The whole of her ensemble, briefly cataloged when he picked her up, was now on display to him, and as she turned to face him Daniel found himself rooted to the spot.

He'd seen her dressed up before—once because a case had interrupted her date, a few times for occasions he couldn't remember as clearly as he remembered her—or as clearly as he remembered the niggling pain in the area of his stomach whenever he watched her at any event, all prettied up, with whoever it was she was there with. But this time, as he stood watching her approach him, balanced on the balls on his converse and hands thrust deep into the pockets of his tux, there was only a thrill and a nervous desire to be worth her. Some trick with makeup had made her eyes softer, standing out against her white skin, and her hair had the slightest of curls as it fell over her shoulders, framing her chest and the neckline of her dress. She was beautiful, though probably no moreso than she'd ever been in the past, but, oh! The difference it made when she was dressed up for him.

"Daniel," she greeted him, a gentle, but almost seductive smile playing around her lips, sensuously stained a deep peony pink, and Daniel swallowed convulsively.

"You look beautiful," he told her, and she shone at him. "You don't clean up too bad yourself," was her flirtatious reply.

For a moment he was sixteen again, on his very first date, unsure of how to talk to her, how to behave, but then he met Kate's eyes and that faded.

Offering her his arm, he crooked an eyebrow and grinned at her, a kind of smile he'd almost forgotten about. As her elbow looped through his and her small hand settled on his arm, a comforting warmth, Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, laughing privately at his own past jealousies. Then he looked up at Kate, met her eyes, and led her in to the party.

 


End file.
